Below the stage, a middle-aged man in the crowd who looked very excited took the microphone from Matsui and stood up. "Hello, everyone. Some of you may know me. My name is Kuroda Nobunaga, and I'm a truck driver."
"Hello, Kuroda," President Oiwa said with a smile.
"Hello, Kuroda!" the whole hall called out in unison, as if they had rehearsed it beforehand—or perhaps they had done this many times before.
"Thank you, everyone!" Encouraged by the crowd, Kuroda seemed to grow a little bolder. "As I just said, I'm a truck driver. I had an accident while transporting goods and lost a shipment of very valuable cargo, so I had to pay a lot of money. Not long after that, my wife took our child and left. I once spent six months living as a homeless man in a park to escape my debts. If I hadn't joined this group by chance, I might have spent my whole life muddling along, rotting away like that... Thank you, President Oiwa!"
Halfway through, Kuroda had choked up. In a hoarse voice, he bowed deeply to President Oiwa onstage and thanked him loudly.
"Kuroda, this wasn't my achievement alone. It was everyone's," President Oiwa said modestly. "Everyone in the Lucky Mutual Aid Society is a child forgotten by God. Only by sticking together and keeping one another warm can we keep moving forward. We're like one big family, sharing our joys and sorrows with each other. Kuroda, hurry and tell everyone your good news. I'm sure they're all looking forward to hearing it."
"Yes, President! After that, I finally made up my mind to visit the owner of the company I used to deliver for," Kuroda said excitedly. "Through my unremitting efforts, I managed to earn the owner's forgiveness. He kindly agreed to take me back and let me work off my debt. I got my job back, and I also got in touch with my wife and child again recently. My life has climbed out of its lowest point, and my luck keeps getting better. I owe it all to everyone in the society! And to that ritual! Long live the Lucky Mutual Aid Society!"
"Congratulations, Kuroda!" President Oiwa said with a smile, leading the applause.
"Congratulations!"
"Wonderful! Simply wonderful!"
"Great job, Kuroda!"
The hall erupted in applause. Overjoyed by everyone's congratulations, Kuroda kept bowing to the people around him and thanking them.
"Heh, this really is heartwarming. It almost makes me want to join this big family. I've had my share of bad luck, after all." Qian Xiaoyi watched coldly, his words dripping with scorn. He stared at Kuroda's neck, where a pendant cord hung, though the pendant itself was tucked beneath his collar and couldn't be seen.
Inuyama Heita whispered, "This looks no different from an ordinary mutual aid group, doesn't it?"
"The key is that 'ritual' he mentioned," Qian Xiaoyi said. "Just wait. It's coming up."
Inuyama Heita tamped down his unease and quietly waited for the "soon" Qian Xiaoyi had mentioned. The following proceedings were just like before: they picked several people from the crowd whose lives had emerged from darkness after they "joined the Lucky Mutual Aid Society" and asked them to share their stories. Of course, they all ended by thanking everyone. Their accounts made everyone in the hall feel an intense bond connecting them, as if they were all part of a shared destiny—or, as President Oiwa had said, one big family.
"...Thank you for sharing your story, Miko." After the last member had finished recounting her experiences, President Oiwa finally stopped inviting people to speak. Like a kindly elder, he smiled and opened his arms. "Thanks to our efforts together, so many more brothers and sisters have escaped misfortune and welcomed the arrival of the Goddess of Luck. This is an achievement we all share. Please give them—and yourselves—a round of applause. You've earned it."
The hall burst into thunderous applause. Everyone looked radiant, proud to have played a part. It was as if they could already see their own futures: if they just stayed here, one day their lucky moment would come, too.
When the applause gradually died down, President Oiwa continued, "I called you all here this time not only so we could get together and catch up, but also for another reason. I'm sure you've already guessed. That's right—just recently, I received a revelation and discovered that another lucky member of our family has earned the Goddess of Luck's favor and can undergo the 'ritual.' To be precise, she isn't a member yet, but a member's relative. That's all right, though. After the ritual, she'll be one of us. Let's welcome—Miss Suzuki!"
"Here it comes!" Inuyama Heita perked up and stared at the stage.
Amid the crowd's cheers, Miss Suzuki came onto the stage from backstage with her daughter, Suzuki. Miss Suzuki looked extremely excited and kept whispering instructions in Suzuki's ear, while Suzuki seemed very impatient, as if she wanted to get this all over with as quickly as possible.
"Hmm, it doesn't look like that girl's been brainwashed or anything," Qian Xiaoyi said, rubbing his chin. "She probably agreed to some condition her mother set, took a few days off, and then came here under a bit of pressure. It seems things aren't as serious as I imagined."
"Shouldn't we do something now?" Inuyama Heita asked. "Are we really just going to sit here and wait for them to finish the ritual?"
Qian Xiaoyi glanced at him. "What do you want me to do? Go up and stop them when we don't even know what's going on? Be careful—the one the police take away might not be the president, but us. Heitaro, why do you seem so invested in this? I never realized you were such a warmhearted person. She's just a classmate you barely know."
Inuyama Heita fell silent, his gaze shifting as if he were lost in thought.
Ignoring the strange boy, Qian Xiaoyi kept his eyes on the stage. President Oiwa wasn't doing anything unusual, but Matsui was different. He held a tray in both hands, with something arranged on a piece of silk. Beside it was a small incense burner, sending up wisps of smoke. It looked like a decorative item. Matsui respectfully brought the tray over to President Oiwa, bent slightly, and smiled at Suzuki.
In Inuyama Heita's eyes, however, the smoke rising from the incense burner gradually took the shape of a curled-up baby in the air. It held together without dispersing. But the people below the stage seemed not to notice the sight at all. They only looked at Suzuki with envy and longing.
"What's that!" Inuyama Heita's pupils trembled when he saw the shape formed by the smoke.
Qian Xiaoyi took out his lighter and lit the cigarette in his mouth. He exhaled a cloud of secondhand smoke and said, "...Is it finally starting?"
Before you continue